Chhaava is epic drama showing an unsung hero’s valor and greatness

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This film was meant to be.

Chhatrapati Sambhaji Maharaj was a worthy successor to his iconic father, Chhatrapati Shivaji Maharaj, surpassing him in physical strength, education and knowledge of religion and even languages. However, the previous political regimes in India made sure that multiple generations of Indians were fooled into perceiving the eldest of two sons and eight children of Chhatrapati Shivaji (through biased “History” books that made heroes out of the Mughals!) as a wastrel, bigot, sex-addict and worse.

This malicious propagation was stopped and reversed in the last decade and we even got some memorable literature on the true Sambhaji, and this film is based on one such book, and painstakingly executed by Laxman Utekar, hitherto known for mediocre and overrated fare like Luka Chhupi, Mimi and Zara Hatke Zara Bachke. Laxman also doubles up as Shivaji’s voice here, but he must be primarily lauded for evolving as a filmmaker who fascinatingly blends real with a little dramatization, and scoring high and on the mammoth scale the subject deserves.

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The events shown here (as well as Sambhaji’s facets) seem incredible but are factual and documented truths. Like his unarmed fight with a lion, or the guerillas incredibly ambushing and decimating much more populous Moghul troops in various ways like in the fields and woods. His superhero-like strength was also real. The many conspiracies against Sambhaji in real life are crisply condensed here to relevant extents, and even the gory torture inflicted by an enraged Aurangzeb on him is true. One factor I would love to know the authenticity of was his final repartee with his dear friend, the poet Kavi Kalash (played by Vineet Kumar Singh) in rhyme, even as both are chained by their enemies.

The film begins with exultation in the court of Aurangzeb (Akshaye Khanna) because of the news that Chhatrapati Shivaji has passed on. Aurangzeb even confesses to having admired his opponent as a warrior. Thinking now that annexing the Deccan province would be a cakewalk, Aurangzeb plans his next move.

However, a fiery and fierce Sambhaji (Vicky Kaushal), who was called Shambhu affectionately by his elders, assembles his lieutenants and troops and valiantly attacks Burhanpur, a strategic place for the Moghuls and loots its wealth. As he keeps on stressing, it is not that he is against any religion, but it is about his rock-solid belief in ‘Swaraj’ (Independence and freedom) and his pride as a Maratha carrying on his father’s legacy.

Incensed by this new enemy, Aurangzeb and his wily daughter Zinat-un-Nissa Begum (Diana Penty) scheme and plan various gambits to defeat and capture the Maratha stalwart. Meanwhile, Aurangzeb’s own son, Akbar (Neil Bhoopalam) revolts and tries to get into the good books of Sambhaji. And Sambhaji realizes that trouble is brewing at home too.

In continuous battles with the much-larger Mughal army, Sambhaji keeps winning and finally Zinat latches on to two disgruntled relatives of the king who betray him and lead to his capture. But Sambhaji’s spirit remains intact even in the face of adversity. For as he says, “Kabhi sher ke chhaava ko kutton ke pillo se bhaagte huye dekha hain (Have you ever seen a lion’s cub scared of puppies)?”

While the film ends aptly with the Maratha’s death, the historical fact remains that Aurangzeb had to stay within the Deccan for a full 27 years in a vain attempt to capture the area, was prevented by leader after successive Maratha leader from going back to Delhi, and finally died a frustrated man.

Coming back to this film, which deserves multiple awards in various categories, I can find no words to describe the epic scale, and the splendiferous use of sound (Bishwadeep Dipak Chatterjee), VFX (Assemblage Entertainment, Redefine, Gray Brown, Simon Frame), DI (the Prime Focus team) and the magnificent work put in by action coordinators Pervez Sheikh and Todor Lazarov, cinematographer Saurabh Goswami, production designers Subrata Chakraborty and Amit Ray and especially considering every challenge involved, prosthetic designer Preetisheel Singh D’Souza, whose transformation of Akshaye Khanna, including his aging, is nothing short of phenomenal.

Manish Pradhan’s editing is sharp despite the 161-minute length, and Rishi Virmani’s dialogues even sharper. When a desperate Aurangzeb tells Sambhaji to come over to his side by merely changing his religion, the Maratha king replies, “Hum Maratho ki taraf aa jao, zindagi badal jayegi. Aur dharam bhi badalna nahi padega (Come over to our side instead. Your life will change, and you will not even have to convert)!”

However, the script (Laxman Utekar, Rishi Virmani, Kaustubh Savarkar, Unman Bankar and Omkar Mahajan), which I must admit must have been very challenging to write, could have also integrated mentioning unknown facts, like Sambhaji knowing 13 languages or his predilection for impulsive thinking unlike his father’s cooler, more strategic planning. Or that he fought his first war at the age of nine!

Such a film needs powerful performers, and yet again, Vicky Kaushal shows his range and power, especially his quicksilver ability of getting into characters that demand intensity, powerful expressions and dialogues delivery. At this stage in Hindi cinema, I do not think there is anyone else who could be a more impactful Sambhaji.

Akshaye Khanna has a one-dimensional role as Aurangzeb, and his eyes do most of the talking amidst all the—sorry for using the word, folks!—fuzz on his face. His gait, especially in the final scenes, is admirable. Rashmika Mandanna as Yesubai, Sambhaji’s wife, is impressive in a relatively meatless role, and Divya Dutta and Ashutosh Rana do not get enough footage but are still effective. Diana Penty has nothing much to do, though the other actors portraying both Mughals and Marathas are good to excellent.

And now for the only true downer: the music. Not only does Aaya re toofan sound too tepid and heard-before, but the rest of the songs too are disastrously ineffective and singularly unmelodious. A.R. Rahman normally manages to score in the background music but over here it is cacophonous, ridiculous, incongruous and gimmicky to the extreme. The vocals included are shrill and dissonant too, and unbearably loud and gross. The obvious choice here for both songs and BGM should have been M.M. Keeravani.

In one word, music remains the only pathetic element in this magnum opus, and the filmmakers have a lot to answer for in this respect. It’s the Chand par bhi daag hota hai syndrome, I guess. But the film is a much-needed and educative chronicle on a real emperor who was virtually like a super-hero.

Rating (despite the music): ****

Maddock Films’ Chhaava  Produced by: Dinesh Vijan  Directed by: Laxman Utekar Written by: Shivaji Sawant, Laxman Utekar, Rishi Virmani, Kaustubh Savarkar, Unman Bankar & Omkar Mahajan  Music: A.R. Rahman  Starring: Vicky Kaushal, Akshaye Khanna, Rashmika Mandanna, Divya Dutta, Ashutosh Rana, Diana Penty, Vineet Kumar Singh, Varun Buddhadev, Anil George & others

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